To the right, there was a Spawn corner. McFarlane’s amazing skill frozen in action poses. Evil monsters and rotting zombies wandered the shelves with aged rock stars. Once I arranged them into a wedding procession. Bad idea.

Behind the hall door were the alluring Witchblade girls. I was not partial to them. I tried to fling the door open to see if I could squash them... just for kicks.

Now we are engaged and I am becoming increasingly distressed. I don’t think I can live with this. I like to see the walls. I don’t like the idea that part of my house will be off-limits to me (my gentlest handling always seems to cause a domino-like catastrophe). None of these creatures are really pleasant... and they’re very dusty.

And my poor man doesn’t seem to be able to curb his obsession. He’s been going through some serious heartache over the scarcity of the new Evil Dead figure of Ash. I don’t know how to console him. "Honey, I’m sure the stores will have your dolly soon." Not much of a comfort to him. What can I do?

I had to put my foot down. I thought if his space was limited, he would control his compulsions. Maybe he could learn to rotate the little guys. I was wrong.

Today I got a call from him. He was outside a comic book store. He had been waiting for the new shipment to arrive with his precious Ash figure. Apparently he had been casing the joint for a couple of days, and had made sure that he would be the one to buy ALL the Ash figures. I know they are not all for him, so I didn’t worry too much. I thought, maybe, this will be it for a while.

I should’ve known better. He called me when he got back to the office. So happy to have this Ash... like a little boy at Christmas. But of course, now he will be free... free to focus his effort on his new obsession: Spawn 18. This is not one figure. This is a set of six pieces of molded plastic that fit together to make one huge creature. He’ll have to put it somewhere... he’ll beg and plead and make deals with me. In the end, I know I will give in.